A triple conspiracy

Three developments have conspired this week to bring me to one undeniable conclusion: I am getting older.

Yah, yah, I know it's an obvious assertion, but humour me a little...

The first conspiratorial event is that I hurt my back... while brushing my teeth.

Oh I'd love to be able to say it was the ski on Saturday, or the run on Monday, or the rides on the new trainer last week, but well, it wasn't. Now, in hindsight, I'm sure there was probably some underlying problem that I simply noticed while I was brushing my teeth. In fact, I've periodically felt twinges in my back over the last few months, which I studiously ignored. But, something about the movement of brushing my teeth set it off, and I woke the next morning unable to put on my own socks. Nothing like shuffling to the shower in a full fledged imitation of Quasimodo and having to get your hubby to put on your socks to remind you of the aging process marching forward.

The second is that it is university recruitment week at work. The elevators and halls are filled with young pups fresh out of grad school. They look young, they sound young, heck, they even smell young. They're keen, they're eager and they look like me 20 some odd years ago (although I doubt I was ever that free of cynicism). Reminders of where you once were will definitely spotlight the ravages of time and experience (and make you pine for that nubile innocence (aka naivety) of old).

The last thing is that I picked up a book by Ewan McGregor. Yup, I'm referring to the Scottish actor. The one whose career was kick started by playing a strung out junkie in Trainspotting. Seems old Ewan and a buddy took off to circle the world on motor cycles and managed to write a book about it. I was a young pup myself when Trainspotting came out and watching ol' Ewan in the Star Wars prequels somehow convinced me he was from that older generation. So, it was a shock to learn this week that the guy is actually younger than me. Ok, it's only a year, but he's younger! Someone has to explain to me how Obi Wan can possibly be younger than me!

All this has led to me feeling ... well... older...

Now, why is this an issue, and what is the point of this statement of the obvious? Well, we're about to become the proud parents of a very active toddling boy. We're not starting with a newborn whose primary role for the first few months is to eat, sleep and poop. Our little guy is walking (well running), climbing, jumping and by the sounds of it, raring to go.

And I'm getting older. The bones creek, the joints ache and ibuprofen has become my new best friend. So, the obvious question is: can I keep up? Do I have the energy needed to not only keep up with him, but to help him through the transition, help him deal with the grief, help him adjust to having to leave everything and everyone he's ever known and loved. Can my failing body (and mind some days) be strong enough to let him climb and catch him when he falls, all the while balancing his sister who herself is dancing head long into life?

I guess time will tell...

In the meantime, I have to try to keep up. Not only with a kinder and a toddler, but I have to keep up with them as they get older. I have to take on school agers whose memory and accuity is leagues ahead of mine. I have to survive the teenage years at a point in my life when my own teenage years will be considered prehistoric (aka Madonna in the Sean Penn years). Facing the barrel of that particular canon is daunting in the extreme.

So, what's the answer? There is none. I can't go back in time, and frankly, I don't think I want to. So, I think I'll just focus on the now and let the later work itself out. All that said, if anyone out there has figured out a way to make bifocals look cool and compression stockings sexy, do let me know, cause I'm gonna need it.

The parting shot tonight aims for distinctly not 40! Good night from Ottawa.

Miya can't wait for her cousin to arrive!

Miya wants to visit as often as she can as she doesn't have a brother of her own.

Mika and Kai can't wait to meet Ren

I love the shot of Kiyomi holding Ren's picture. Soon she will be hugging him for real. we're so excited!

"You done yet?"

Eons and eons ago, when I was but a wee lass working my way through the halls of academia, I embarcked on what, in hindsight now, was a foolhardy endeavour.

Yes, it was primarily because after finishing a Masters degree, my employment prospects were only a wiff better than they had been when I proudly strode out of my high school, cap and gown held high. And yes, I still hadn't really figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up, so staying in school seemed like the ideal way to continue to find myself. And yes, the very prospect of growing up seemed far too foreign a path to take, so the idea of being an on-going student seemed the perfect compliment to my procrastiting nature.

So, I did it - I signed up for a doctorate. I mean, what better way to keep the world at bay then to spend the next 5 years of my life emersed in some obscure topic that only a handfull of people on the globe had even a modicum of interest in? What was a few more years of keeping the big, bad world out there by holding up my student card as a protective shield (the one I should point out that has no expiry date on it, so technically, I could still use it to get discounts), instead of venturing into it myself? As long as I was still a student, I was still a kid, and there wasn't any reason to 'make something of myself.'

As often happens on these foolhardy endeavours, however, ultimately the real world seeped into my little life mainly because 1) I was tired of keeping the world at bay (real meaning - I was tired of living like a student and eating mac and cheese for dinner every other night) and 2) career prospects staying in academia were frankly not all that interesting (real meaning - the idea of spending the next 10 years chassing the tenure-track brass ring seemed like the emotional equivalent to banging my head against, if not a brick, at least a lego wall). So, I took a real, gown-up paying job, and before I knew it, 5 years became 6, then 7, then 8, and the most constant refrain in my life from family and friends was "Soooo, you done yet?"

What the hooten heck does this have to do with adoption you ask? Well, I bring it up, as there seems to be a recurring theme in my life, rather well summed up with the simple words - "you done yet?" Only now, the refrain is "any word yet?" This comes from the same well meaning family and friends, all of whom are eager and excited for you, and curious to know what's going on. There is love and support and interest and a whole whack of good things in that question. Nonetheless, everytime I hear it, it's like a smack to the back of the head.

All that to say, still no news on when we'll be travelling. We had expected to be in the 'hear any day' territory by now, but it would seem the timelines we'd been given were perhaps not as accurate as all that. We had been told that it would be up to 6 months between referral and travel, but it would seem that some families have had to wait up to 8 months. Before you ask - nope, don't know why and nope, can't do anything to change it.

However, we have been lucky enough to get some updated pictures and information. Seems our little man has gone from active baby to active toddler in the months we've been waiting. It's bittersweet to see these pictures - to learn how much you've missed, but at the same time to see a happy, healthy, smiling face.

We've also been provided with a little more information. He likes his tricycle and apparently, loves music and dancing. We'll have to see whether he takes to skiing with equal enthusiasm.

Thankfully, there are always distractions, and Christmas holidays is always a big one. This year, we headed for the wilds of Thunder Bay where we feasted on the holiday favourites of turkey and perogies. Mmmm ... perogies....

Kiyomi got spoiled rotten by Santa, Nana and a few of the elves as well given the sheer number of presents, and is now the proud owner of a puppet theater, a pirate ship and more princess paraphenalia than in humanely safe.
We had a wonderful opportunity to catch up with family and friends over the holidays. I even managed not to turn into a snarling beast with the numerous (though well intentioned) inquiries about our China plans.

There has been Christmas concerts, cookie making (and eating), tree decorating, a visit with Santa, tracking Santa on the internet and of course a never ending stream of presents. A heart warming (and rather mixed era sight juxtaposed) site was watching Nana, Zufu and Kiyomi snuggled up on the couch alternating between watching the Santa tracker on-line and reading The Night Before Christmas. The highlight of Kiyomi's time in Thunder Bay though was walking the dogs. She loved taking the three of them into the bush behind my aunt and uncle's house and was more excited about the prospect of giving them a treat then pretty much anything else.

We rung (and wrung) in the new year with a visit from Kohji's family and marvelled at the growing numbers. With four lit' uns racing around, the holidays definitely had a different flavour. Ok, maybe the youngest wasn't exactly running yet, but I saw the look in her eyes and she'll be in the thick of the cousin pack any day now.

As for day to day stuff - all is well. Kiyomi is liking JK and all the fixins'. We had our first parent/teacher interview in early December and she's truddling along happily with her peers as far as we can tell. She fits in like a dirty old shirt, even though she's one of only 3 girls in the class. The daycare staff continue to be frighteningly happy and enthusiastic each morning. I don't know how they keep it up, but everyday they treat the kids with warmth and affection. Kiyomi is growing and learning, although we do wished she'd gain those last 3 pounds so we could move her into a booster seat, rather than the dreaded 5 point harness.

Overall, I'd say she's 4 going on 40 with better memory and eyesight and all the charm and attitude that contains. We've learning a few things - if she tells you that you had promised her something, don't argue, she's right. My almost 40 year old brain may have forgotten, but not hers. You can bet that if she tells you she sees a bird, a plane, a red car, a whatever, don't tell her that she's mistaken, because she's right. My favourite thing of late though is hearing her tell me about her dreams or listening to her tell a story - both are always vivid and funny and likely show me that she catches on to way more than I give her credit for.

The parting shot for tonight is Kiyomi's Christmas gift from all the gals at the daycare. Far too sweet for their own good I tell ya. Good night from Ottawa.